“Please come back,” the fae said. “Please promise me you will.”
My gut churned. Ùna never acted this way when we left, even for battle. She always had confidence in us, and was usually sassy about our departures.
Astrid knelt and pulled the fae into a strong embrace. “Of course I’ll come back. I always do.”
Ùna hugged her back, blinking into Astrid’s shoulder.
After a moment of embracing, Astrid joined me at my side, and we all touched Freyja for her to teleport us to Fenrir’s location.
The peaceful lake was replaced in an instant with the chaos of war. Instinct kicked in, and I swung my sword, cutting clean through the arm of a warrior. Baldr rushed in with his usual reckless abandon, and Freyja split off with him. Astrid remained by my side. She summoned her magic and opened up large swaths of the battlefield by throwing warriors back with invisible force.
I had no idea which warriors were immortal, and which were mortal, but it didn’t matter. They were the enemy, and they wouldn’t stand in our way.
A wolf snarled and then howled in the distance. My pulse kicked up at the sound of Fenrir’s familiar battle cry. But I didn’t know where he was.
“Go to him!” Astrid yelled to Freyja and Baldr. “We’ll take care of these ones.”
I slashed through a wolf berserker with ease. “We’ll catch up quickly.”
Our friends nodded and took off in the direction of Fenrir’s howl, Astrid clearing the way. We could go with them, but these warriors would follow, so it was best to be rid of the nuisances now.
Astrid and I fell into practiced step. I cut down two warriors, and she speared three with summoned weapons. I slammed down another and Astrid blasted a warrior with brilliant magic when she foolishly thought she could catch me from behind. We’d fought so many battles together, we could be blindfolded and still we’d fight in perfect rhythm.
Many warriors died at my hand, while others, Astrid told me to leave. I didn’t question, just acted.
Slowly, the number of warriors thinned, and we made progress toward the fight with Odinn himself. Those loyal to Odinn who remained were mostly berserkers or immortals. Some were even both, like the berserker I faced down.
The bipedal bear-like man snapped and snarled, his eyes crazed with the lust of battle. I’d met him on several occasions, both in battle and outside of it. Arnlaug was one of Odinn’s most renowned and loyal warriors. While I didn’t have any personal hatred toward this man, he stood in my way, and therefore needed to be cut down.
Arnlaug chuckled, the sound rumbling low and deep. “How I’ve longed for this day, Týr, where I could finally tear you apart. You and your wingless Valkyrie will suffer for siding against Odinn.”
Wingless Valkyrie. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that name for Astrid. My affectionate name for her had turned into more than that for others after she became immortal. So many thought I had created a Valkyrie, even if she couldn’t sprout wings or touch warrior souls like a true Valkyrie. Even Fenrir and Baldr called her that in battle, or to tease her outside of it.
Naturally, these speculations did nothing to aid my poor rapport with Odinn. He seemed especially furious about the prospect that another god could have made a Valkyrie.
Arnlaug bared his teeth. “Will you fight me like a proud warrior, Týr? Or is it true that your Valkyrie cut off your balls and you need her protection?”
Astrid vanished and reappeared behind a wolf berserker. She slammed her axe into his back, and the warrior dropped to the ground, twitching several times before going still. She snapped her gaze to me. “I trust you can handle this, my love.”
I readied my sword and shield and focused on the warrior before me. “I can’t disappoint my Valkyrie, Arnlaug. You’ll just have to die.”
The berserker roared and charged. He slammed a hard fist into my shield and then followed up with a swipe of his claws, looking to take me by surprise. I was not a god of war by chance. I easily deflected both attacks and used his momentum to slice into his arm with my sword.
Arnlaug’s reflexes were better than I’d planned, and he managed to evade the worst part of the strike. His bulky arm remained attached to his body, but bled profusely.
The berserker didn’t pay his wound any mind and came at me again. I dodged and thrust my shield at his face, aiming to damage something vital. Arnlaug snapped his razor-sharp teeth and clamped down on the shield, the wood cracking under the intense pressure of his jaw.
The bear-man wrenched my shield out of my hand and spat it away. But that was his mistake.
I took advantage of his undefended stance and sliced my sword across his chest. He roared, and I followed up with a sweeping slash to his legs. The bear berserker collapsed, but wasn’t ready to admit defeat like the warrior he was.
Arnlaug swiped claws at me but missed, leaving his arms open for another disabling attack. My sword almost sliced through flesh and bone both. His unbalanced state temporarily saved him from that fate when he fell back.
I raised my sword to strike the killing blow when a soft hand touched mine. I snapped my focused stare on Astrid. She gazed down at the bleeding-out berserker with cold, battle-hardened eyes. The look was a more mature one from that first time in the meadow when she first met Freyja and Baldr. These years of battle had steeled her heart to the darkness of war, and yet, when the battle ended, she still maintained her goodness.
Both sides of my Valkyrie stirred me in primal ways. Even now, as she disregarded Arnlaug’s life, she was the most alluring woman I had ever been privileged to meet.
“Leave him,” she said, turning away with no further explanation. I found that peculiar. She usually gave a reason why she wanted a warrior to live. But I didn’t question her, and followed instead.
